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- - -
Peter Parker felt a rush, a buzz across his skin. It was the kind of excitement he hadn't felt since he was a kid. He was glued to the bus window, eyes wide under his glasses as they passed the large sign monument - letters in stark black on a white stone base.
OSCORP.
He couldn't keep the smile off of his face. The other riders were bustling in their seats, the rest of Peter's class talking and gossiping amongst themselves. For them, this was just a ticket out of class. For Peter, it was better than Christmas. He'd been looking forward to this field trip for months.
The bus rolled on down the private road - Peter noticed immediately how smooth the ride was now. No rumbling like they had back on the public streets. Just when he thought they'd reached the main building, the bus would keep on going. Further and further until Peter could no longer see the gate they came in through.
"Woah." Peter breathed out. "OsCorp campus is huge."
"Way huge. This place is bigger than ESU." Harry Osborn smirked beside him. Peter could see a tiny glint of pride in his friend's eyes. "You know it's got an underground tram system?"
"No way. Are we gonna get to see it?" Peter asked, hopeful.
Harry shook his head.
"Sorry bro. Class tour is gonna be gimped. My dad doesn't want us moving through sensitive areas."
Peter blew air through his lips, deflating.
"Damn."
He couldn't get too down over it, though. A trip to OsCorp was still a trip to freaking OsCorp. Peter put his attention back on the passing scenery and his mood began to rise again.
Everything was so clean - the manicured grass, trimmed hedges, all the buildings of spotless glass and sleek stone. And Peter thought the science lab back at Midtown High was high end.
"On the bright side, they're gonna let us see some of their live specimens. So there's that." Harry added.
"Could be cool." Peter's anticipation grew. He thought about OsCorp's advancements in genetics in the last few years, his mind racing with the possibilities. "You said your dad had his teams looking into gene splicing, right?"
A scoff cut through their bubble. Then a large presence dropped into the seat just behind theirs. Peter's mood soured. He didn't need to look to know who it was. But Peter dared a glance anyway - what if he was wrong?
He wasn't. Peter cursed silently.
Flash appeared as Peter expected. The varsity athlete as always was wearing his white-and-green letterman jacket. His square head was plastered with a smug, smirking face, and his light blond hair was styled in a doofy crew cut that somehow made him look even more like a meathead dolt.
"Gene splicing?" An obnoxious cackle came from Flash Thompson's mouth. "Man, Parker, you just made that shit up to sound smart."
Peter rolled his eyes, keeping the insults he wanted to let fly firmly grounded in his head. The worst of them died in his throat… but his sharp tongue had a mind of its own - it just had to wag.
"There's no way you don't know what gene splicing means." Peter sent a flat look over his shoulder.
Flash's smirk turned nasty then.
"There's no way you're not a skinny little prick." The football player snapped back.
"Cut it out, Flash. Gene splicing is a real thing." A softer voice rose up from across the aisle. Familiar like Flash's, but much, much more welcome to listen to. For Peter, it was like cotton candy for his ears.
Peter glanced towards the source, seeing big blue eyes, silky blonde hair, rosy cheeks and a cute, upturned nose - the lovely, angelic face he'd been crushing on since he was in sixth grade.
She was Gwen Stacy and she was looking his way. Their way, actually, but that was semantics.
Flash let out another scoff, but Gwen kept on. "It's also referred to as genetic modification or genetic engineering. It's when scientists make alterations to an organism's DNA."
It took some effort on Peter's part to keep the dreamy smile off his face. Listening to Gwen talk smarts, seeing those glossy pink lips sounding out those words, had Peter feeling light. Low gravity light. Like he was up on the ISS, spinning around through Zero G.
"So, like… taking things and mutating them and stuff? Ew." Sitting beside Gwen was Liz Allan. Smooth brown skin, darker hair tumbling down her shoulders in gentle waves. Hazel eyes, button nose, full lips, all pinched in disgust. Even so, Liz provided just as appealing a sight as her blonde friend.
They were both in their cheerleader uniforms, too. Peter appreciated that - as no doubt every boy in their class did.
"It's actually really cool." Peter found himself speaking up. Gwen had openly agreed with him, feeding his courage. "Scientists use genetic engineering to make medicine, stronger crops. They can help people with genetic diseases. Some scientists even think they can use it to bring extinct animals back to life."
"Like the dinosaurs from Jurassic Park?" Flash asked, sounding shocked. At first Peter thought the jock was still mocking him, but he saw the older teen's face was stricken with genuine surprise.
"Yeah, we've got a T-Rex chained up inside. We'll even let you pet it." Harry snarked.
Flash might have been thick, but he wasn't so thick to miss Harry's tone.
"Whatever, man." He gave a push off the back of their seat, flopping back into his, muttering under his breath. "Gene splicing. Pfft."
While Harry shook his head, Peter dared another look across the aisle. Gwen and Liz had gone back to their chatting, but for a split-second he locked eyes with the blonde cheerleader. A split-second was all it took for his heart to start pounding. He tore his eyes away, sitting stiff in his seat.
Gwen Stacy. His golden-haired angel. Two years older. Way out of his league.
The bus finally slowed to a stop. Up at the front, Mr. Warren, their biology teacher, stood up from his seat. A short, barrel-chested man, with receding brown hair and large-rimmed glasses resting on his thick nose. His voice carried out over the back seats, tired but firm.
"Alright everybody. I want things nice and orderly. Be polite. Be respectful. Don't make me write any of you up. Now let's start filing out. Let's go, people."
Everybody started to shuffle into the aisle. Peter was feeling that buzz again. He couldn't wait to get off.
- - -
The tour was nice enough. Peter still wished OsCorp let them see some of their new tech, but he understood the secrecy. The corporate world was ruthless and if they wanted to stay ahead, companies like OsCorp couldn't afford any leaks.
The silver lining was that Harry had been right - the tour guide herded the group into a large, brightly lit room. They were greeted with the sight of rows and rows of tables, all set with clear containers, each filled with soil, twigs, branches, leaves - makeshift habitats.
This was the live specimen room.
"I'd like to remind everyone to keep a respectful distance." Mr. Warren warned them. "Don't poke the glass. Don't press your face against it. Just… don't do any of that. Please."
The students began to spread out, breaking off into smaller friend groups. Peter moved off by himself. It was for the best. Harry might have been his best friend, but he never really got Peter's interest in "science stuff". And it gave Peter the chance to observe in peace.
He came up to the first enclosed habitat. It was the size of a fish tank, the interior styled to look like a forest floor. Peter read the display label: Fire Ant Specimens - T-07.
He didn't know what T-07 meant, but he understood Fire Ant well enough. Just as the sign said, Peter found dozens and dozens of little drones scurrying across the bottom of the tank, bright red… and about twice as big as fire ants would normally be.
Insane growth… would hate to get bit by one of these big boys…
A force struck Peter in the back then. He very nearly stumbled face-first into the Fire Ant tank, catching his balance just in time. It was a moment of shock, a blitz of white hot fear, but it quickly subsided.
"Sophomore geek gets moved up to twelfth grade biology and thinks he's an upperclassman." The new presence groused. The voice was low and scornful.
Peter swallowed his anger down as he turned to see Flash Thompson's stupid, smirking face.
"Maybe we should tell Mr. Warren to leave you here. This place is like geek heaven." The taller jock stood close, looming over him.
Peter's hand tightened into a fist. He wanted so badly to drive it into Flash's teeth. His rational mind won out in the end. Starting a fight in Harry's dad's expensive lab? Starting a fight that he'd almost certainly lose? It was a bad idea all around.
As always, Peter Parker had to suck it up and take it.
He still had his sharp tongue, though.
"Geek heaven. I guess that makes it Dante's Ninth Circle for you, huh?"
It was a good line. He came up with it right on the spot, too.
But Flash just crossed his arms, his smirk growing.
"It is a bit chilly in here."
Peter wasn't sure he'd heard Flash right. A comeback that made sense?
"You-?"
"I know what The Divine Comedy is, jackass. Gwen tutors me in English." Flash boasted, his smile turning prideful. Though Peter couldn't quite tell which Flash was more proud of: knowing about literature or the fact that Gwen Stacy had taught him about it.
"That makes sense." Peter kept on. "Did she use a picture book or-?"
Flash bumped him in the shoulder as he went by. He hadn't even been moving that fast. The hit was solid enough to send Peter stumbling into the side of the table again. He only just barely caught his balance in time, hitting the table hard enough and loud enough to catch the attention of some of the others. Peter could feel their eyes on him - he could feel his cheeks burning in turn.
"Whoops." Flash cackled. "Sorry, man. Maybe you should hit the gym, Parker. Who wants to be the guy that gets knocked over by a light breeze?"
Peter's cheeks and ears flashed hot. He wanted so badly to take a swing at Flash's big, dumb head. But in the end, Flash walked off unscathed. And Peter just stood there. As he always did.
"Dick." Peter cursed under his breath.
He unclenched his fists, his palms grateful for the relaxation. Peter looked around, suddenly very aware of the other students milling about. Not too many had noticed the run in with Flash, it seemed. Nobody except for one.
A very blonde, very pretty, very familiar cheerleader.
Peter was frozen on the spot. Gwen Stacy was heading his way.
She took up his vision as she approached, her body lithe and feminine and wrapped up snug in her cheerleader garb. Legs miles long, leading up into a skirt. The thigh-length band of dark green fabric was stretched over the width of her hips, fabric shifting with every step. Peter drew his gaze up, over the narrow swath of exposed tummy - Gwen was delightfully fit, the faint lines of her abdomen moving as the muscles worked under smooth, smooth skin. And her top. God, that top. The emblem of the Midtown Mustangs warped by the swell of her chest.
Peter tore his eyes away, forcing them up, up, up towards her face. Towards her bright, sky blue eyes. Silently praying that she didn't notice his ogling.
If she did, it didn't show it on her face. Instead, Gwen looked concerned. The blonde chewed on her lower lip - God, she had nice lips - and glanced the way Flash had wandered off.
"I could tell him to leave you alone." She told Peter. Sounding apologetic. "I'll threaten to stop tutoring him. He needs passing grades to stay on the football team and I'm the only tutor willing to put up with him."
Now, that would pretty much solve all of his problems with Flash Thompson. But looking at Gwen's pretty face - any pretty face, really - always had Peter's clear, sharp mind going… fuzzy.
Peter shook his head.
"No need." He gave Gwen a cocky grin as he dusted himself off. He knew it was stupid but he was doing it anyway. "It's all good. Not a scratch on me."
Gwen didn't look too convinced.
"Are you sure? I don't know what's up with him."
"Just Flash being Flash." Peter shrugged, ignoring the ache in his back. "Big words make him angry."
"You use big words all the time. What happens when he gets really mad?"
"I'll deal with him."
Gwen cocked an eyebrow.
"You'll deal with him?"
"I'll endure him." Peter clarified. Inwardly he winced. It hadn't been a good line. Way too cocky for a stringbean like him. Not a chance it would have landed.
Gwen crossed her arms, scrutinizing him for a moment longer. Finally, she made a face and shrugged.
"Alright." A faint smile appeared, glossy lips quirked just so. She gave Peter one last look as she backed away. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
And so Gwen moved on. Peter watched her go - watched her skirt mostly and so enjoyed the way the fabric molded to her body. It was hard to believe he shared a school with a girl so gorgeous. Shared classes with her, even! And she was so damn smart, too!
Gwen Stacy had it all. Beauty and brains all rolled into one lovely blonde package.
She was way, way, way out of his league. But a man could dream, couldn't he? And when it came to Gwen, Peter dreamed a lot.
So many scenes had played out in his head over the nights. A thousand happily-ever-afters, beating the big bad and getting the golden-haired girl before being woken up to his reality of gangly limbs, bad eyesight, and being the youngest guy in all his favorite classes.
Bitterness was creeping in again. Peter forced himself to ignore it.
This field trip was a dream come true. He wouldn't let anything ruin it. Especially not Flash Thompson.
So Peter moved along, drifting towards the habitats he had yet to see. There was a row of them before him, smaller than the ant tanks, cylinders the size of desktop screens back home. And inside, Peter could see webs.
He adjusted his glasses, peering down at the habitat label.
0-Z Hybrid - Arachnid Series I-15-862
"Hybrid…" Peter repeated quietly. Then…. realization hit like a truck. His eyes widened. His focus shot up towards the glass, towards the webs held within. He was glued to the critters crawling inside, jumping about, spinning their webs, utterly astonished because he knew then that they weren't normal spiders. None of them were. They weren't specimens caught out in the wild. They were created in a lab. Genetically engineered.
A new species brought to life by OsCorp.
Peter let out a laugh, incredulous. He had to work here. He just had to.
"Unreal." He shook his head, wearing a broad smile.
"Do you really need to put your face right up to the glass?" A voice cracked through his bubble again. Light, feminine, only slightly laced with disgust. Still more welcome than hearing Flash's obnoxious laugh again.
Peter spared Liz Allan a glance. Her heart-shaped face was marred by a frown, though Peter could tell her aversion was more towards the live specimens than towards him. She had her arms hugged to her belly and she kept distance from the habitat tanks - clearly not trusting the glass to keep her safe.
Even looking grossed out like this, Liz proved a distracting sight. If Peter hadn't been totally smitten with Gwen, no doubt he'd have fallen head over heels for Liz Allan. Where Gwen was fair and blonde, Liz was darker - in both hair and skin. Smooth, soft brown, light enough to signal her mixed heritage. Her hair was gentle waves tumbling down her shoulders like shimmering chocolate, a shade of brown so dark it almost looked black. And her body… if there was one thing Liz had over Gwen, it was her figure. Hips slightly wider, thighs slightly fuller, breasts just a touch bigger, and a backside so perfectly shaped that Peter - not even an ass-man himself - wanted to cry.
Liz Allan was a total babe. And she was looking Peter's way like he was putting his head in a lion's open mouth.
"I want to see." He defended lamely. "They're super spiders."
Liz shuddered.
"They're super gross. I can't believe you're into this stuff."
Peter's self-consciousness flared up for a hot second. He backed away from the glass, feeling some warmth color his cheeks. It was one thing to take crap from Flash, but from Liz in that cheerleader uniform…?
Pretty girls could really mess with a guy's mind. On the scientific level, Peter understood it. Natural pheromones in the air led to chemical reactions in his body, causing the release of dopamine into his brain. The "feel good" hormone. In reality, it felt like black magic working upon his body. The "feminine mystique" he'd read so much about. So spellbinding it could turn big brain Peter Parker into a blushing, stammering mess.
"I just think they're neat." He didn't stumble over his words, so there was that. "They're the only creatures of their kind in the whole world. Completely unique. Man-made. Can you believe that?"
Liz inched only a tiny bit closer, leaning in with narrow eyes. Her face twisted in greater disgust. That was as close as she was going to get. The cheerleader started to back away.
"Can man un-make them, please? It's like these people have never been to the movies. What if the spiders get loose?"
Peter had to shake his head. Even with Liz already heading off, he had to stick up for his fellow nerds.
"Not a chance." He was talking to Liz's back by then, but Peter didn't care. "OsCorp are global leaders in this sort of biotech. They've got cutting edge security- Ah!"
There was a sharp sting on the back of his hand. Peter hissed, reflexively slapping his other hand over it. He saw a tiny shape drop to the tile floor - a spider! Peter watched, dumbfounded, as the little critter scurried away. It disappeared under one of the lab tables.
It took a second for everything to sink in. Peter's attention dropped to his stinging hand - where the sting had felt the sharpest was now a tiny pink welt. And right in the middle were two, even tinier red dots.
A bite mark.
The spider had bit him.
At first, a flash of panic lit up in his mind. Peter quickly calmed himself. It probably came from the vents or something, he reasoned. No way it was a loose specimen. Not a chance. It didn't even resemble any of the super spiders in containment - but then again, Peter never got a good look before it scurried away.
Peter swallowed nervously, rubbing at the back of his hand.
Maybe I should go tell the tour guide-?
"Alright, class." Mr. Warren's voice rose over the whole chamber. The teacher clapped his hands. "That about wraps up the tour. Let's start heading back to the bus. Calm and orderly, please!"
Everyone began shuffling back towards the doors they came in. Peter, though, remained where he stood, thinking. Thinking.
Peter looked at the bite mark again. Already the redness was fading away. It was nothing, he told himself.
He turned and followed his classmates. There was no reason to make a scene.